This is not their church. It is mine.

I like this thought, and I like the way SilverRain recognized that others do not own it any more than her.

Something I’ve been studying more lately is the idea of moving away from words such as “my” or “mine” – and realizing being attached to things sometimes drives me to start defining myself or my worth through things, which can inhibit my growth.

Our attachment to material things, people, and experiences is what draws us away from freedom and connection to Self. By having a grounded connection to Self, we are able to disperse the burden of materialism: desire, the need to acquire, and the false sense of existence through the association to things and others.

In practical terms, we do become owners of things, possessors of products, and connected through relationships. However, when we choose to observe non-attachment and strip away the concept of “ownership”, we realize the irrelevance of using these two burdening words (“my” or “mine”). It is true that when we take on ownership of something, we usually take on a social, moral, or civil responsibility. For example, we purchase a home, we are responsible for taxes and upkeep. But as soon as we attach the labels of ‘my’ and ‘mine’ to this element of ownership, we readily link this material possession to who we are – we allow ourselves to become vulnerable to judgment, vulnerable to the miseries of loss, overcome by the burdens of acquiring more and satisfying the desires of attainment.

Perhaps if we focus too much on defining the church as “mine” it may lead to expectations and frustrations, which we can let go of, and simply focus more on sitting in the foyer with present thoughts of the joy to be there, and the wonder that tithing from unknown masses provide such edifices to gather in.

I wasn’t going to participate in this lest I rain on the parade, but I guess I will now.

My recurring thought when I read this is that I I don’t have much desire to say it’s “MY” Church too . For a couple reasons.

At one time, I would embrace the thought wholeheartedly; I was always broadcasting the fact that I was a Mormon because my whole orientation toward it was positive — Apostles at the helm, divine commission, inspiring scripture in addition to the Bible, a great sense of order and such, personal revelation, a clear path to heaven — I honestly was proud, in a good sense, to be a Mormon. And then my experiences happened and I saw huge disconnects between what I thought it stood for, and its overall behavior. So, at times, I don’t revel in the fact that I’m a Mormon, feel pride in it, or wish to call it my own.

And second, if it’s MY Church, and my attitudes run counter to the general populace or the general cultural norms, I still feel sort of shackled or alien-like, so claiming it as my own doesn’t seem to help much.

Third, the concept of it being MY Church too — also implies the onus/responsibility is on me to change the things that cause angst in its culture. And I think we all know how that goes over in a Church which stresses obedience, conformity and a lot of administrative/cultural rules, notwithstanding the lightening of the CHI recently. Granted, we can reach out to people in ways that make THEM feel little more welcome or inclusive, and I guess that can help when the opportunities present themselves, but those opportunities aren’t regular, in my view; people aren’t usually willing to talk about their Church angst.

It would be nice to go back to those days when I was naive and idealistic and my Church experiences were all positive….I’d love to recapture those feelings again, but I have this feeling they will be a long time in coming.

So….how do you embrace it as your own in a way that is fulfilling? That helps you feel ownership without angst? I don’t really see how that attitude helps (although I’d like to see it).

So….how do you embrace it as your own in a way that is fulfilling? That helps you feel ownership without angst? I don’t really see how that attitude helps (although I’d like to see it).

Angst is about you. Others don’t own that or force that upon you. Others do what for them is fulfilling in the church. Between that stimulus and your response is a choice. You can understand why that bothers you and root it out, you can let it bother it you and leave so you’re not around something that bothers you, or you can choose to forget it and focus on something else.

SD, if I tell you that you have green hair, does that offend you or cause you angst? Probably not, because its ridiculous, and so you dismiss it without thinking about it and without angst. So it is with what others say at church. Their ideas apply to you as much as my perception that you have green hair applies to you. It may cause you to check in the mirror, check if there is any validity to their comment, but then you can dismiss it if you wish, or you can worry about it if you wish.

It is your church too. So you can choose to do what is fulfilling for you. If that creates angst for others (even if they are the majority), that is now about THEM, not you and your church.

All that stuff requires major thought control, which I’m not good at — that’s all I have to say about that part of it.

However, the idea that you can do what is fulfilling and shuck the rest is partially stimulating. I personally don’t like causing angst in others when I have been in their position before, which can be a bit disconcerting when I find myself dishing it out as I pursue my own fulfillment. On the other hand, doing the things that make others happy relieves that angst, while causing a new kind of angst in that you’re serving in ways you’re tired of. :yawn:

I’ve made some progress though. I guess I don’t care if the priesthood leader is frustrated that I don’t move people anymore. One way to look at it is that people did that to me when I was a priesthood leader, so I guess the existing priesthood leaders will have to put up with it too. Not really a grand application of “do unto others as you would have the do unto you” though.

I like Heber’s response. :clap: